


Where Angels Trod

by orphan_account



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5885179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a dreary Christmas season for the gang. But when a new neighbor moves in, will they be able to celebrate the holiday season without Johnny and Dally?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. All characters from The Outsiders belong to S.E Hinton. Comments/suggestions are welcome.

A cold gust of wind whipped down the street in Tulsa, Oklahoma. A tumbleweed rolled across the cracked and tarred pavement, and was caught in a chain-link fence, where it stuck. A swirl of dead leaves against the slate gray sky completed the dreary picture. It felt more like September than thirteen days before Christmas, Ponyboy Curtis thought to himself. Less than two weeks away, and he still didn't have anything for his brothers or friends.

Not that they were doing much this year. With Johnny and Dally gone, there didn't seem like much to celebrate. Soda had insisted on putting up a strand of lights around a post on the front porch, but many of the bulbs were cracked and faded, and what should have been bright, cheery colors seemed like a mockery instead. 

While Christmas break was a relief to most kids, it was torture to Pony, having to be stuck in the house by himself with all the memories and lack of the people in them. Soda and Steve would come home at night, laughing and cracking jokes, and things would be a bit better, with noise and others around him. Then Darry and Two-bit would wander in, and they'd all have dinner, a loud, raccous affair. Afterwards, they'd watch TV or play a game of cards. 

Although Ponyboy was doing much better than he had right after they'd lost Johnny and Dally, there were still times when the grief that they were working so hard to put at bay would catch up, and everyone would get quiet for a while. Then Two would say something funny, and they'd all laugh half-heartedly, because that's what Johnny and Dally would have wanted them to do- carry on with their lives, to stay gold.

But now, it was almost Christmas, and Ponyboy was fretting. He knew that he had to do something for the gang, but what? Soda's strand of lights had been a huge joke to Two-bit, and they had all laughed over it. But there was something about those dim little lights, and Pony knew what it was; they were Greasers, and greasers didn't have nice Christmases with trees and lights and turkey; they had broken, dim, little lights and, Pony realized with a pang, each other. So what if he couldn't afford to give Darry and Soda and the others everything they deserved- he could still make it a happy day without all the extra things that "normal" people had.

The growl of a truck outside broke his chain of thought. Looking through the dirty window, Pony watched a moving truck drive slowly down the street, as if they were looking for an address. The boy had to smile to himself. They were probably lost, as no one in their right mind would ever move to their side of town.

An hour later, Steve and Soda were jostling for positions on the couch, while Two-bit sprawled in a chair nearby. Pony was stretched out on the floor, working on a drawing of a horse for Soda. Two-bit took a deep pull at his cigarette.

"Hey, did ya see that someone's moved into the old place down the street, like a block and a half?" he asked. "I mean, who'd be crazy enough to move to hell?"

"I saw a moving truck earlier," Pony murmured from the floor. "Drivin' real slow, like they were lookin' for the place."

"The one with all the busted windows?" Soda asked. "You sure?"

"Course I'm sure," he said. "Talked with the guy. He's from Tahlequah, and he's a preacher. And the windows are all fixed with ruffled, flowered curtains in them."

Steve and Soda groaned in unison. "Really?" Steve asked. "Bet he's come to convert the hoods."

There was a general outbreak of laughter at his remark. "He can start with the Socs for all I care," Two said. 

"Now, now," Soda admonished in a lofty voice. "Do you doubt that their souls can be saved? 'Cause I sure do!"

More laughter followed, and even Pony found himself smiling. The door banged open, and Darry walked in. 

"Someone's moved in down the street," he announced by way of greeting.

"A preacher, come to save our mortal souls," Steve grinned. "Darry, are you in danger of hellfire?"

The man smiled slightly, and ruffled Soda's hair. "Who's askin'?" he demanded. "Plus, how do you know it's a preacher?"

"I talked to him," Two-bit said, lighting up another weed. "Seemed a pretty decent guy, if a little confused."

"Read his map upside down, must be," Soda commented. "How else would he wind up in this part of town?"

Dinner that night was peaceful. Darry was in a good mood, which led to everyone else being in a good mood, which led to a Soda and Two-bit comedy routine that left everyone in stitches. It was good to feel this way, Pony thought, as he worked more on his drawing later that night, even if there always was a bit of sadness behind it all. 

Just then, there was a knock on the door. The gang looked around, and Darry stood to answer the door.

"Yes?" he asked. The rest strained to hear the answer. "Uh, yeah, um, please come in."

Soda and Pony exchanged a glance. It was unlike Darry to stutter; something was wrong. Just as both rose to their feet, Darry walked back into the room, followed by a girl, maybe about Soda's age, with large, dark blue eyes, long, curly hair, and a leather jacket and beat up cowboy boots- greaser all the way.

"Guys, this is Catherine Williams, and she just moved in down the street."

The boys stared. The girl smiled nervously. "Hi," she said quietly. "Just call me Cat."

"Hi, Cat," Ponyboy began. "I'm Ponyboy, this is my brother Sodapop, and those two are Two-bit and Steve. You know Darry."

"Nice to meet you all," Cat said, as the boys awkwardly murmured hellos. "I remember seein' you earlier, Two-bit; you talked to my dad."

"The preacher," Two-bit blurted nervously. Pony understood why Darry was stuttering earlier- Cat was awful pretty, with a soft round face and gentle voice. 

"Yeah," she smiled. "Don't mind him, he gets a little carried away with his evangelizing. Anyways, I didn't mean to keep you, just thought I'd bring this over and meet y'all." She held out a package to Darry. "It was nice to meet you all," she said, turning away to go.

"Here, I'll walk you out," Darry said, thrusting the package into Soda's hands. The gang stared.

"Be careful," Darry said as Cat stepped out onto the porch. "It's dangerous out there."

She laughed softly. "Don't worry. I've got a blade. It was nice meeting, you Darrell."

"Please, call me Darry," Pony heard him say. Two-bit arched an eyebrow. "Take care."

When Darry came back into the room, four pairs of eyes stared hard at him. "What was that?" Soda demanded. "What is this?" he said, waving the package around.

Darry shrugged. "Dunno. Open it."

"You like her, Curtis," Two-bit said, an evil grin gracing his face. "You liked her didn't you?"

"Lay off, Matthews," Darry responded. "I was just bein' polite."

"Hey look!" Soda yelled. "It's cookies!"

Pony smiled slightly. Maybe Christmas wasn't going to be so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preacher Williams feels the need to be the heralding angel of this Christmas season, which immediately gets him into hot water with the gang.

"Merry Christmas sir!" Fredrick Williams called. "May the Lord richly bless you and yours this blessed holiday season!"

"Um, yeah," Sodapop said, looking at Steve. "Thanks." The two boys continued to walk down the street, headed towards the lot and the store. But instead of letting them simply walk by, the minster stepped out in front of them.

"I'm Fred Williams," he said, holding out a hand which the boys reluctantly shook. "I am a minster of the Lord, and I'm here to spread the gospel throughout this neighborhood." He clasped his hands in an attitude of prayer, and looked up at the sagging power lines with a rapture in his face that made Soda want to laugh. Steve raised an eyebrow, and looked covertly at Soda.

"Well, nice to meet you, Pastor, but we've got to be goin' now," Steve said, attempting a friendly smile. "Have a good day?"

"Oh, not so fast, young man," Mr. Williams said, stepping out beside them. "Mind if I walk with you a ways? I have to go to the store anyways."

Soda stifled a groan, and Steve pulled out a package of cigarettes. Taking a deep drag, he exhaled slowly. 

"Son," Mr. Williams said, "how long have you been tampering with those?"

"Tampering? You mean smokin' em?" Steve asked. Soda grinned at the pavement. "Since I was three or four." Steve winked at Soda.

The minister looked horrified. "My dear child-" Steve made a face, and Soda began to laugh into his coat collar- "don't you know that you're killing yourself slowly? Many have been corrupted by drink and tobacco, turned away from their holy purpose by these evil temptations."

Steve gaped, and a dark expression spread over his face. "Now look here, mister-" he began, but Soda cut it.

"Preacher, thank you for remindin' me!" he cried. "Darry told me to grab another six pack, and I totally forgot about it now, until you just reminded me!"

Steve smiled at his friend. "Well, Preacher, we're meeting some friends here, but I guess we'll see you around." They had come to the vacant lot, and Steve had never been so relieved to see the place.

Fred Williams beamed at the two. "It was a pleasure, Mr... I am so sorry young man, but I completely forgot to ask your names!"

"Sodapop Curtis," Soda mumbled, looking at the pavement, and then jumping as a hand came down on his shoulder.

"May the Lord be with you, Sodapop Curtis!" the minster cried, with a huge smile. "He has great things in store for you, my boy! And you are?" he asked, turning to Steve.

"Steve Randle," he said, grinding the end of his weed under his heel.

"And may He be with you as well, Steve," Fred Williams said fervently, with another resounding shoulder pound. "May He place his angels around you and your friends day and night, and may the snare of the fowler never come nigh your dwelling!" With another huge smile, the minster turned and left the lot, whistling "Onward Christians Soldiers" in a tremulous, piercing tone.

"What in the hell?" Steve demanded loudly. "That was the weirdest thing that's ever happened to us!"

"What the hell the 'snare of the fowler' is is what I'd like to know," Soda said. "C'mon, let's beat it before he comes back."

That night, Darry was regaled with the tale of the adventure over dinner. Soda and Steve didn't find it quite as funny anymore, but the rest of the gang found it hilarious. All except Pony.

"You know," he said when the mirth had died down, "we really could use some angels around us, y'know? It sure wouldn't hurt to have some assistance from God or something like that."

"Ponyboy Curtis!" Two-bit yelled. "You ain't gettin' soft on us now, are you?"

Pony shrugged. "I liked goin' to church with Johnny. It was nice," he said quietly. "I might go back sometime."

At this, the gang was silent. It was Darry who broke the quiet.

"Pony, you're right. We could use some angels. But I think we could have used them long before this. But if goin' to church is what makes you happy, go to church, and we ain't gonna stop you."

Soda smiled. "This is a first. Angels around the dinner table. What the hell has happened to us?"

Everybody began to laugh again, and Pony smiled to himself. Angels were a nice thought, even if Fred Williams was a little weird.


End file.
